The Skywalker Diaries
by chiapett
Summary: Awkward Tatooine teenager Anakin Skywalker is thrown for a loop when, from out of the blue, he learns the astonishing news that he's a real-life prince. Anakin begins a comical journey toward the throne when his estranged and distant father, King Qui-Gon Jinn, shows up to give him "prince lessons." Updated every Sunday. Trans Male Anakin WIP Modern Human HS AU Obikin & Barrissoka
1. Enter Skywalker

Anakin covered his head with the light sheets on his bed when the alarm clock sounded. The hideous, shrill ringing resounded through the room and made him grit his teeth together. Still he didn't bother to reach over and turn it off. When a weight landed on his chest, Anakin groaned and peeked out. A golden tabby cat kneading the blankets stared at him.

"Fuck off, Threepio," he grumbled. With a sigh, he pulled his covers back and reached over, silencing his alarm. One day he'd end up disassembling it. When he had time.

He groaned again. His hand searched for his glasses at the bedside table, gripping them with morning feebleness. He swiped them clean on the covers after breathing on them, then squinted before putting them on and then his vision focused. He lifted himself up off the bed and stood with a long stretch. His sleep pants that were two sizes too big hung low on his hips despite the tightened drawstring.

Threepio gave him a mournful meow at the loss of his heat source, which Anakin ignored. He unsteadily walked to the small bathroom that connected to his room, and nearly fell on his face when his sock caught on the transition strip between bedroom and bathroom, making him let out a curse. _It's going to be a great day._

He barely glanced in the mirror at first, instead washing the sleep from his eyes with cold water, brushing his teeth, and getting some deodorant on. He had showered last night. Getting ready didn't include brushing his hair, laying thick, curly, and pitch black down to his shoulders. He's given up on it long ago, though he was still playing with the idea of cutting it off. He fidgeted at his lip ring, finally addressing the mirror, and made faces at himself while studying his eyebrow piercings.

"Ani, it's time for school!" The familiar call came from downstairs. Anakin made one last face, going back to hurriedly pull his binder on. Although, you really couldn't put a binder on quickly. But he did try. His school uniform came next. It made him look all the more ridiculous, awkward, and uncomfortable. And as always, he was too hot under all the clothes. Tatooine sucked when it came to feeling like you were having actual nice weather instead of being in a pit of lava. Anakin unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

Tuition was moderately high at Mos Espa Private School, but his mother had wanted the best education for him. Besides, his forever absentee father paid for it all, so Anakin figured he might as well take advantage. He kind of hoped that the expense was driving his father to bankruptcy. _The asswipe deserves it for leaving Mom._

"You're going to be late!" Shmi Skywalker called up again as Anakin tugged his shoes on. Before she could get out another warning, Anakin slid down the pole of their home - a former firehouse. A thump sounded on the kitchen floor as he landed. His mother greeted him with a smile. Anakin's own face was tired looking due to last night's constant nightmares and restless sleep. He was already done with the day before it started.

Shmi handed him a chocolate milk and pack of similarly flavored PopTarts, accompanied with a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Bye, Mom," Anakin said, his smile slight but grateful. He grabbed his skateboard from beside the door before rushing out of it.

Not really paying much attention, Anakin dropped his skateboard to the ground, then proceeded to run it and himself into the neighbor's garbage cans.

"Whoa, whoa!" Anakin struggled to keep balance as he knocked the can over. He would have picked it up, but he was very nearly late, and he didn't need _another_ tardy slip this month. The neighbor looked up from where he was sitting on a lawn chair by his door, reading a book.

"Sorry, Mr. Gerrera," Anakin winced, sheepish. "Uh...have a nice day."

"I doubt it," Saw Gerrera grumbled. Anakin took the opportunity to quickly skateboard away.

It wasn't long before he met up with his friends, Ahsoka Tano and Obi-Wan Kenobi, whom were also foster siblings. They looked impatient as he approached. Ahsoka wore her usual braids, hair shaved at the sides, with eleven piercings in her ears. One had got infected last month and had to be taken out, or she'd have a full dozen. She'd admitted the parlor she got it done at had been questionable. Especially since she didn't have to have any proof she wasn't a minor.

To add a little style to her uniform, Ahsoka had various pins on her chest and her backpack, stating things such as 'Save the Sea Otters' and 'Punk Girl Power'. Her skateboard was blue and white striped, and had been expensive. Her and Obi-Wan's foster parents were rich. Somehow, though everything was mismatched, Ahsoka put it all together and made it look good. Her striking blue eyes pulled everything together.

And then there was Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan was perching on an old bike that was too small for him, looking as put together as always, as Anakin always noticed. Obi-Wan had an attachment to the bike, turning down his foster parents' offer to get him a new one. Anakin had said he'd take it if Obi-Wan didn't want it, but they seemed to think that had been a -trimmed red hair had been brushed out of his face, revealing soft blue-green eyes, thick lashes, lightly freckled cheeks, and a jawline to die for. At least that's what Anakin thought. He looked perfect. _Like a goddamned Disney prince._

Anakin had met Obi-Wan and Ahsoka last year, becoming fast friends with them after Obi-Wan had stood up for Anakin on one of those miserable days in gym class where the other boys had mocked him. Ahsoka had joined as well as soon as she had puzzled out what was going on. He still remembered what the imprint of her hand had looked like on Seek Polewal's face.

"What's the rush?" Anakin asked, catching up to their meeting spot, his breathing a bit labored. Ahsoka rolled her eyes, and Obi-Wan snickered, while Anakin smiled to himself but was unable to hide it. Today was election day, and Barriss Offee had nominated Ahsoka for the student government vice principal. Ahsoka pretended not to care about it and tried to brush it off, but everyone could tell she was excited. And anxious.

Ahsoka suddenly left, skateboarding down Mos Espa Street and leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan behind. Her braids flew behind her. Anakin exchanged a look with Obi-Wan, who shrugged, and they both followed as Anakin moved back onto his ratty looking skateboard.

"Bad morning?" Obi-Wan asked him. _How can he always tell?_ Anakin didn't reply for a moment.

"Just the usual," he finally answered.

"Bad night?" Obi-Wan pressed him. Anakin sighed and gave him a somewhat exasperated look. Obi-Wan nodded in understanding. The only person Anakin had told about his nightmares outside of his mother and his therapist was Obi-Wan. It had just come out one day. Ahsoka didn't even know, and she and Anakin spent more time together than him and Obi-Wan.

"It's...under control," Anakin assured him. Obi-Wan didn't look convinced.

"Guys, come _on_!" Ahsoka called ahead of them. The school was a block away now. Anakin took a deep breath, slouching to make his hair cover half of his face. He pretended not to see Obi-Wan's frown, though he knew he wouldn't drop it. The school came into view quickly. _Welcome to hell._

Anakin followed Ahsoka through the hallways of Tatooine Private School. Ahsoka was going so fast he was half tempted to put his skateboard down and roll on after her.

"Snips! Wait!" he called after her. Obi-Wan had already gone on to his class - he liked to be at least ten minutes early - so he was no help. Anakin was out of breath by the time they reached the courtyard and Ahsoka was already passing out more campaign buttons.

The cheerleaders cheered through their practice routine off to the side, which Anakin made himself ignore, but it was hard with Aphra Bryant in the foreground. He couldn't ignore it anymore when Aphra climbed up on the half wall of the courtyard, doing an intricate flip that made Anakin hold his breath.

"Aphra, babe, what are you doing?"came the booming voice of Savage Opress, the quarterback. Aurra Sing, another cheerleader, laughed in delight.

Anakin sighed, forcing his attention back on Ahsoka. Ahsoka chattered away to Barriss Offee, her best friend. Barriss was a pretty, slight girl, with big blue eyes, dark skin, and a brightly patterned hijab. She was sitting on the half wall and Aphra did a cartwheel over her, making both Ahsoka and Barriss wince.

"Barriss, off the wall, off the wall, come on now, you know better than that," ordered the music teacher, Ms. Unduli, as she walked by and snapped her fingers. Barriss blushed and quickly got up. Ahsoka rolled her eyes. In doing so, she caught sight of Anakin. Finally. She walked over next him just as Ms. Unduli passed.

"Good morning, Ms. Unduli," Ahsoka said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Ahsoka….and Ahsoka's friend," Ms. Unduli said with a quick glance at Anakin before heading off. Anakin made a face. ' _Ahsoka's friend'. That's a new one. At least it's not 'Miss Skywalker' anymore._ He'd take what he could get. Though most of the time he preferred being invisible.

"Why do you looked like someone punched your cat?" Ahsoka asked as they moved back into the hallway to get to class. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I don't. If someone punched Threepio, I'd look a lot worse. If that's possible." Ahsoka chuckled.

"Yeah, that's true. Hey did you want-"

"Fuck, get out of my way, dipshit!" The voice rang out behind Anakin, and before he could look, he was shoved and knocked over onto the hard concrete. Books and papers spilled everywhere. He easily recognized Savage Opress by his spiked hair as he ran past and disappeared around the corner.

"What the fuck?!" Anakin yelled after him.

Savage didn't take any notice. Yet the vice principal did.

"Skywalker. That's a strike for vulgar language." There was something about Vice Principal Windu's voice that always made the hair on the back of Anakin's neck stand up. His gaze just made him all the more intimidating. But Anakin was pissed off. Windu was already filling out a yellow slip. He had it out for Anakin ever since freshman year when Anakin had accidentally set part of the science lab on fire. It wasn't that big of a fire.

"What about him?" Anakin protested and stood, clutching his books to his side. Ahsoka handed him the other half she had picked up, and winced. Windu gave him a steady look.

" _Savage just - fu-_ never _mind_ ," Anakin near hissed in frustration as he took the slip Windu was handing him. One more this month and he'd be in detention. And it was only the 10th of March. Windu gave a short nod of approval.

When Windu walked away, Anakin let out a breath, and Ahsoka gave his arm a sympathetic pat. "I'll catch up with you at lunch." Anakin nodded, tucked the yellow slip into his book, and headed towards his first class, has expression stone.

Anakin phased out for a moment walking into the courtyard again, this time during lunch break. Aphra Bryant strode through, and the crowd parted immediately for her. Anakin swore she was the most perfect girl in Tatooine. She walked through the school courtyard, her jet black hair shining and brilliant, spilling over her shoulders and down her back. Her lips shown rosy pink and her eyes gleamed, dark and knowing. Anakin could focus on her now, since Ahsoka wasn't here yet.

They'd been friends, before. Just the beginning of freshman year it had broken off. Right before Anakin came out and before Aphra decided she was more interested in popularity than she was in chemistry. Right before she decided Anakin wouldn't help any in that popularity goal. She was still the smartest person Anakin had ever met. And he may have had a crush on her since they had attended the same elementary school together. Either way, different crowds claimed them now, and they were strangers. Anakin wasn't welcome in her world. She didn't care to be welcomed in his. _But_ _I still miss her._

His daydreaming continued as Aphra flounced over to her boyfriend, none other than Savage. Then the makeout session began.

"Gross," declared a voice beside him, but Anakin was still distracted, imagining Aphra's lips on his own, like he had done so many times before.

"Earth to Skyguy. Hello?"

Anakin blinked.

Ahsoka's face came into focus beside him, especially when she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes.

"What?" he asked, frowning. Ahsoka frowned back and handed him a pen.

"Elections … over there," she pointed to the small ticket booth the school used for home games and school concerts. "Ms. Unduli is in charge. Ask for a ballot. Vote for _me_ ," she smiled.

"Oh, yeah, right," Anakin nodded.

"What were you doing, anyway? Trying to get make out tips from the A-crowd?" she asked. Anakin rolled his eyes.

"Likely," he scoffed, opening up his locker while Ahsoka smiled. Then it was back to routine when the bell rang.


	2. The Kids Aren't Alright

History class droned on. Anakin couldn't pay attention - he never could. He was too focused on the present and future to worry about the past. What the fuck did he care? It was the past, before he was even born, he couldn't do shit about it. History gave him fucking anxiety. He hated when he couldn't fix things.

"Mr. Skywalker?" Anakin's head shot up as he finally realized Mr. Lars had been calling his name. Anakin looked over at Ahsoka, who shrugged.

"Uh . . . the Alderaanian Inquisition?"

"Contrary to your obvious belief, Anakin, not everything in this class is based on the Alderaan Inquisition. That was our first lesson, which seems to be the only one you paid much attention to," said Mr. Lars. Students chuckled across the room at the teacher's good-natured humor. Anakin's ears went red, but thankfully they were hidden under his hair. He still noticed Aphra whispering to Savage in giggles, and his face reddened as well to match the ears.

"Maybe her attention is only for anything on how to be a real man?" Savage butted in, and a flash of anger rose in Anakin's chest. It must have shown on his face, because Ahsoka instantly looked alarmed.

"Maybe if you didn't put all the dick in your personality you wouldn't have to overcompensate so much," Anakin shot with a growl, causing Mr. Lars to clap his hands, a call for silence that Savage didn't pay attention to, standing up instantly from his desk, temper wild on his face.

"That's big fucking talk for someone who doesn't even have one," the quarterback growled menacingly.

Anakin wasn't really sure what happened after that. Everything turned an intense red. All he knew was that he didn't tolerate people being complete dickwads about his identity. Or what was in his pants. What fucking business was it of theirs?

He heard a distant exclamation, 'He's fucking crazy!', but that was it. Then he found himself on the floor, his face stinging horribly on one side, and his vision really was red, with blood.

* * *

He came home starving along with his black eye. While he'd gotten a full lunch before history class, he was always just so damn hungry. Shmi blamed it on growth spurts, yet Anakin was certain his body hated him. That always seemed to be the case.

He threw his backpack down and slipped his shoes off by the door, setting his skateboard down gently then proceeding to immediately take his binder off, letting himself relax more before he walked into the living room to talk to Shmi.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted her with a wince, trying to hide his injury and the fact that he was home early. Logically, he knew the school should have already called, but a guy could hope. Threepio meowed, jumping off the couch and striding to greet Anakin, rubbing himself in circles around his human's ankles. He nearly made Anakin fall on his face for the third time that day. Anakin had an inkling this time would have been more painful. Yeah, well. Love hurts, fucker.

"Oh, sweetie," Shmi said. She'd already stood up from her chair and rushed towards him as soon as he stepped into the livingroom. She was shorter than Anakin now, she had been since he was in seventh grade, but Anakin still felt safer in her embrace. She pulled back soon enough to inspect his eye. Anakin pulled away and landed on the couch with a groan.

"Your history teacher called," Shmi said while sitting down next to him. "What happened?"

"He didn't tell you?" Anakin asked sarcastically. Seeing the look upon Shmi's face, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Just...Savage Opress. Being himself, that's all. An A-crowd dick, and I told him so. He gets a little offended when you mention the size of his genitals," Anakin shrugged. His luck, Mr. Lars had gone Windu on him and had told Shmi what an awful asshole he really was.

"Mr. Lars mentioned you threw the first punch," Shmi prompted him gently.

"Yeah, well. I don't really remember. Everything kinda went red from my perspective as soon as he had something to say about what's in my pants," Anakin grumbled. Shmi ran a hand through his hair and sighed, and Anakin found himself resting his head over on her shoulder. He wanted to cry and just let Shmi hold him forever, but he didn't. I can't put anymore stress on her than I already do. He knew he was a problem.

"Parent teacher conferences are this Friday. I'll talk to Mr. Lars then. You're out of class for two days, and so is Savage," she said the other boy's name in disgust. "I'll see what I can do beyond that when I talk to your teacher, okay?" she asked.

"Okay," Anakin nodded, giving her a soft smile. Shmi smiled back and kissed the side of his head, which Anakin leaned into.

"Now, let me get you some ice for that."

* * *

Shmi had to go to work the next day.. Her art classes only met on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, but she worked part-time at the local rock climbing gym, and Anakin decided to go with her, hoping for once he wouldn't make a complete ass of himself.

"Can I have some shoes and chalk?"Anakin asked, leaning up against the front counter. Shmi's coworker, Feemor, raised an eyebrow at him and grunted in affirmation before getting said requests. He was a real chatty guy. Anakin liked him.

"Here you go," he mumbled, passing them over. Anakin nodded and went over to his mom as he got ready. Soon they were climbing together, and Anakin let out a sigh of relief. Business was slow today, and there were other workers there taking care of the few customers they had.

"Your father called."

Anakin nearly lost his grip on his handholds.

" What ?"

Shmi looked uncomfortable for a moment. Anakin just stared at her.

"He's in town. He wants … to have tea."

Anakin gaped.

"This … he's never even talked to me before, and he came all the way from the fucking Mid Lands to have a cuppa ?"

Shmi sighed as the telephone rang in the background.

"Isn't this the father who fucking … oh, I don't know, left you pregnant?"

"Qui-Gon and I made the decision to separate together," Shmi snapped in a rare show of anger. Anakin blinked, surprised, while Shmi took a deep breath.

"And why shoud I go see this uptight prick who has always ignored me?"

"Ani, he's your father. Just go see him tomorrow, please?"

"Tomorrow? What- what about you, aren't you coming?"he asked, his voice becoming significantly smaller.

"No, I … it's complicated. But I always hoped you two would meet someday."

"Is he dying or something?" Anakin scoffed. Shmi gave him a steady look. Anakin sighed.

"All right, I'll go."

* * *

The car shop was loud with the sound of rock music as Anakin arrived for his part-time shift that evening. Well, it wasn't really a job. He just helped out, and the owner, Hera Syndulla, let Obi-Wan's band practice. Obi-Wan didn't actually know that was the reason, but … well, Anakin liked working with cars anyway. He could use the cash, but … it made Obi-Wan smile.

"Hello. Talk louder, I've got a band rehearsing," Hera said as she answered the phone while Anakin walked past. He smiled as he watched Obi-Wan sing the last note. Obi-Wan's best friend, Garen Muln, did a guitar riff and some screaming.

"You've been listening to the sounds of So Uncivilized. Thanks for the tips."

"All right, stop yelling, Kanan, they're finished," Hera said off to the side. Obi-Wan came over, clapping Anakin on the back.

"Hey, that was really good. Garen's really been wailing,"Anakin smiled, not adding the descriptor of awfully. Garen gave him a peace sign from the side as he packed his guitar away.

"Thanks," Obi-Wan smiled, seeming genuinely uplifted by the half-ass compliment. Anakin gave him a mock punch on the shoulder, which Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at.

"Haven't you lost enough fights lately?"

"Last one doesnt count. It was basically two against one, since Savage is twice as big as me."

"I thought size didn't matter?" Obi-Wan questioned him cooly, tilting his head to one side.

"It doesn't. But also it does, sometimes. Shutup," Anakin scowled, feeling himself blush. Yep, making a real asshole of myself now, thanks Obi-Wan. At least he was used to it by now.

"Hello, Anakin," Hera said, apparently done with her chaotic phone conversation now.

"Uh, hey boss. So, what about the Stang?"he asked, eyes lighting up. They'd worked out what was the problem with his old piece of shit Mustang the night before last, but Hera had to order some parts. Anakin had been hopeful she'd find the good deals for him, he really needed somethng to come through for him.

"Four hundred."

Anakin's eyebrows raised up. He sighed. "Well. That's … that's typical. Love this week," he mumbled.

"I can see that," Hera said, gesturing to his black eye.

"It's fine," Anakin sighed, not wanting to make a spectacle "I'll...talk to my dad about it."

Obi-Wan looked confused, and frowned at him. Hera had raised an eyebrow as well.

"Okay then. We've got a new paint job, Kitster Banai wants his door painted the same color as the rest of his Jeep. Apparently there's a girl involved."

Anakin chuckled. Kitster had been his best friend in elementary school.

"Alright, boss."


End file.
